


Communist!William Fic

by shallowlives



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, The Academy Is...
Genre: Canon Jewish Character, Communism, Crack, M/M, communist!william, light antisemitism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26881102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shallowlives/pseuds/shallowlives
Summary: It all begins when Gabe finds a copy ofThe Communist Manifestoin his mailbox a mere few days after he moves into his new apartment. Yeah, he definitely wasn’t expecting that.----Basically, a crack fic wherein William is a communist.
Relationships: William Beckett/Gabe Saporta
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Communist!William Fic

**Author's Note:**

> For the purposes of this fic, I made Gabe a Russian Jew even though he isn't irl. So deal with it, I guess. And I only know about communism what I learned in AP Euro like three years ago and my few interactions with edgy know-it-all communist white boys, but I still think I managed to pull it off.
> 
> This was inspired by some tumblr post I can barely remember that my friend sent me, and somehow the idea sprang to mind of William being a communist. So enjoy!

It all begins when Gabe finds a copy of _The Communist Manifesto_ in his mailbox a mere few days after he moves into his new apartment. Yeah, he definitely wasn’t expecting that.

He burns it in the sink, lighting it with the same matches he uses for Shabbat candles, and hopes that’s the end of it as the paper cover crumbles to ash, the red slowly sucked away by the heat.

A week passes by. And as it turns out, that’s not the end of it.

Gabe is returning from grocery shopping one night and gets in the elevator, pushing the button for the third floor when a lanky, lithe man about his age with shoulder-length brown hair steps in and gives him a grin.

“Third floor? Oh, me too!” he says, glancing at the lit button. “Are you the new neighbor that just moved in?”

“Uh, yeah,” Gabe says, holding out the hand that isn’t holding groceries. “I’m Gabe, and you?”

“William.” He shakes Gabe’s hand perhaps a little _too_ eagerly. “Did you get my gift?”

“What gift?”

William narrows his eyes at him. “Um, only the best book of all time! _The Communist Manifesto._ Have you gotten a chance to read it yet? It really isn’t that long.”

“Nope,” Gabe lies, because he doesn’t think he can exactly tell William that he’s burned his favorite book of all time. As the elevator doors slide shut, panicking realization shoots through him; oh _fuck,_ William is one of _those_ kinds of people, and now Gabe is not only stuck in an elevator with him, but he’s also his _neighbor._

“Really?” William asks, still cheerily but his voice laced with disappointment. “I was hoping you would have by now. I wrote my phone number and a note in it for you, I was hoping you’d at least call so we could talk about it.”

The elevator starts chugging upward. “Look, William,” Gabe starts out, “you seem like a nice guy, but communism isn’t really my thing.”

“Oh.” William frowns. “So then you’re a Republican?”

“What?” Gabe sputters, raising his eyebrows at him. _“No!”_

“So you’re a fascist, then?”

“No! Of course not! I’m a liberal, okay, is that good enough for you? But not a communist, alright? I’ll respect your political beliefs if you respect mine.”

“But why _not?”_ William pries. The elevator doors open and he follows as Gabe speed-walks out in a hurry, down the hall to his apartment door. “Don’t you think _we,_ the proletariats, should own the means of production? Don’t you think capitalism is a flawed system? Don’t you think the bourgeoisie is—”

They come to a stop at Gabe’s apartment door, where he turns around and _glares_ at William. “I told you I’m a liberal, is that good enough for you?”

Still, William continues with his propaganda. “The revolution could happen any day now!”

Gabe digs his keys out of his pocket, fumbling for the right one to his apartment in a rush. “Please, just _shut the fuck up,”_ he spits. “You want to know why I’m not gonna read your fucking book? My family was killed and jailed by communists. Good night, _William.”_

He turns his back to William to unlock the door, slamming it behind him and leaving William shocked in his wake.

When Gabe gets up to check his mail the next day, as early in the morning as he can bear to wake up just so he can avoid William, it seems he didn’t really manage to avoid him. Under his door, an envelope has been slipped, addressed to him.

On the piece of paper, William has scrawled,

_I’m sorry about the other day, I know I can come off as a little too passionate. I’m so sorry to hear about what happened to your family. If you’re open to it, you’re welcome to visit my apartment anytime. Here’s my number:_

_Sincerely,  
William Beckett <3 _

Gabe logically knows the next step is to shred up the note, pretend it never happened, and make a note not to renew his lease in a year.

But he doesn’t. He dials William’s number, half-hoping he isn’t still awake, but the ringing stops only after a second. “Hey, it’s Gabe. I got your letter. I… I guess it’d be okay to talk sometime with you?”

“Great!” William says. “I’m free after five. That time works for you?” Gabe finds himself shocked William hasn’t mentioned anything snide about having an average nine-to-five job.

“Sure,” Gabe says. “Five is good.”

William’s apartment is an edgy teenager’s wet dream. It’s a pretty normal apartment, except a Soviet Union flag is hung over the TV and lining the walls are vintage propaganda posters of buff and shining Russian and Chinese men shaking hands in a very, very heterosexual way. The bookshelf is filled with many books, from five different editions of _The Communist Manifesto_ to numerous biographies about figures from Leon Trotsky to Fidel Castro.

Immediately, Gabe’s fight-or-flight response goes off. It’s a challenge to be calm when his inherited intergenerational trauma is screaming at him to _RUN_ and never look back. His genes are telling him this man is _danger._

He tries to push down the feeling and smile even though there’s a portrait of Lenin above the kitchen table.

“This is my humble abode,” William says. “Would you like anything to drink? Tea, coffee, water?”

Gabe’s eyes snap from the portrait. “Just some water, thanks.”

“No problem. Please, take a seat.” Gabe sits down at his behest, Lenin’s cold eyes looming above. He shivers.

“So…” Gabe starts. “You… really must like Lenin, huh?”

“Oh, yeah!” William delightfully agrees, grabbing two glasses from a shelf. “I got to see his body on my trip to Russia last year, actually!” He sees Gabe’s look of confusion and explains, “Yeah, his body is preserved. You can like, walk through this mausoleum in Moscow and see it. A little unsettling, but it was _so_ worth it.”

Gabe settles for, “Huh,” as a response. “That’s an… _interesting_ tourist attraction.”

“I have pictures. Of the outside, of course.” He sets down Gabe’s glass of water and sits down across from him, taking out his phone. “Actually, I can show you! They’re on my Instagram. I have a communist meme page with a few thousand followers, actually, so I guess you could say I’m a _little_ famous in the community.”

Gabe grits his teeth, smiles and nods, as William scrolls through his Instagram page and then turns his phone toward Gabe. It’s a picture of William outside the entrance to Lenin’s mausoleum, grinning and giving a thumbs-up to the camera. Gabe almost thinks it’s cute, but… it _is_ a picture of an edgy communist white boy, so maybe he shouldn’t think it’s cute.

“Anyways, why’d the party kill your family?” William asks, leaning back and taking a nonchalant sip of his water. “Were they rich?”

Gabe grimaces. “Jewish, actually.”

“Oh.” William shrugs. “Same thing, right?”

Gabe only stares, his teeth clenched until William starts laughing. “I’m just kidding!”

“That’s not funny,” Gabe says. “That’s actually really insensitive.”

“I’m sorry,” William apologizes, his tone genuine. “I really have a lot of respect for Jewish people, really.”

Somehow, Gabe doesn’t believe that. “Uh-huh.”

“There were lots of Jewish communists,” William says. “Trotsky was Jewish.”

“I’m sure he was,” Gabe deadpans. “But that doesn’t change the fact my family was killed for their religion. They risked their lives to flee the Soviet Union.”

William nods solemnly, almost fooling Gabe into thinking he may actually be getting his point across. “I’m sorry about your family. I don’t actually think _all_ religions should be banned. Most Jewish people are fine.”

Gabe raises a brow. “Most?”

“The Orthodox ones are a little wacky,” William admits. “We probably could do without them.”

Gabe’s chair scrapes against the floor as he stands up and walks toward the door. William immediately follows.

“Wait, I’m sorry!” William calls out. “I didn’t mean that! Orthodox Jews aren’t _that_ weird, I guess!”

Gabe stops as he’s reaching for the door and spins around. “Look, William, if you want to turn me into a communist, you’re gonna have to try a lot fucking harder to be less antisemitic about it.”

“I don’t want to turn you into a communist!”

“Then why the hell else did you invite me here?”

“Because…” He falters. “I felt bad. And I wanted to get to know you better, really. I think you’re cool. And I don’t have a lot of friends because all _this,”_ He gestures around. “—tends to scare people off. Please, I’m sorry. I know I’m being a piece of shit.”

“If you want to talk again,” Gabe says, his voice still rigid, “you’re going to have to educate yourself.”

“Okay,” William says.

Gabe seems taken aback, like he’s waiting for another terrible joke. “Wait, really?”

“I’ll educate myself,” William promises. “You could send me resources, if you’re okay with that of course, and I swear I’ll read and watch whatever you send me. And we can have a much, much better conversation about it, and I’ll try harder to understand. I’m sorry, Gabe, really. I want to learn.”

Gabe is frozen, unable to believe it for a second before he tentatively says, “Uh, sure. I'd be glad to send you a few things?”

“Thank you!” William beams. “Text me whenever you want. No pressure at all, obviously.”

Gabe smiles lightly back. “I’ll start looking tonight for stuff to send you.”

“Great!” William says. “Again, I’m really sorry about tonight. I really want to get better, I swear.”

“It’s fine,” Gabe says. “Um… I’m glad you’re open to learning. Anyway, I should probably get going, so—”

“Oh, yeah, ‘course!” William reaches behind him to open to the door for him. “I’ll see you around. It was nice meeting you.”

Gabe gives him a small wave, says, “Nice meeting you too,” and then steps out into the hallway.

It isn’t until William shuts the door behind him that the realization comes crashing down on Gabe. _Really,_ what the _hell_ is he doing, befriending some edgy communist white boy?

But at least William is cute. And trying to be less antisemitic. So there’s that, Gabe supposes, and he walks back to his apartment so he can find some resources for said cute edgy communist white boy to be less antisemitic.

**Author's Note:**

> Cracky shit like this is always so fun to write ngl. Maybe I'll write a part 2 someday if I ever feel like it, idk. Hope you guys liked it!


End file.
